


will you tell me now

by kangtv (galacticnik)



Category: NU'EST, Produce 101 (TV), Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Lai Guanlin (minor), M/M, Yoon Jisung (minor) - Freeform, i’m never writing again, oh my god this is entirely too much waffling, ong is frustrating, some stuff about tea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 07:36:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13049487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galacticnik/pseuds/kangtv
Summary: Seongwoo is a mess of feelings. Minhyun is handsome.Somewhere in between, there's tea and backwards crab-walking.





	will you tell me now

**Author's Note:**

> title from d-1 by yves (loona). self edited and barely proofread as usual, so please excuse any mistakes!

“Hey, kid. Don’t fall asleep during the demonstration,” Seongwoo says through a yawn, and Guanlin fixes him with a look that is equal parts offended and exasperated. Running his hands through his hair, Seongwoo holds back another yawn and slaps his cheeks to keep his eyes from drooping. Staying up late to finish that article was a bad idea, especially since Jisung ended up scrapping it in the end. He isn’t too torn up about it since he’ll freely admit it was not his best work, but all that time and effort is wasted now. He could’ve spent that time trying to fix his fucked up sleep schedule instead.

“I’m fine, hyung.” Guanlin pushes his glasses up and clears his throat. “ _You_ should probably get more sleep.” The bulky camera around his neck bounces against his chest with every step. He holds onto the strap with one hand to steady it and frowns as they step into the garden. “I don’t want to make a bad impression.”

Seongwoo shrugs. “No one’s paying attention to us anyway.” The crowd milling around waiting for the outdoor demonstration to start is pretty large, but most of them are occupied with their phones, chatting amongst themselves, or admiring the art installations littered across the grounds. He’s honestly surprised at the number of people who came out. Seongwoo didn’t think anyone cared about antiquated stuff like this, really, but the director at the entrance informed him that nearly all seats for the morning’s demonstration were full.

Guanlin gestures to the area under his eyes. “Still, your dark circles are sticking out, hyung.” He pauses, then carefully adds, “You should take better care of yourself.”

“Eh, coffee exists for a reason.” He can’t believe he’s being lectured by a college freshman, of all people. But Guanlin’s concern is cut short as the staff begin ushering people to the table of drinks and snacks before guiding them to their seats. Seongwoo stops at the table to take a cup of green tea and a piece of Hwangnam bread. He knocks the tea back in one swing and winces as the bitterness hits the back of his throat. “Does this stuff have any caffeine in it?”

Guanlin gives him a weird look as they toss the cups in the recycling. “Didn’t you do any research on tea and stuff?” he asks, holding back a laugh.

Seongwoo remains silent. _Of course I didn’t; it’s just a filler piece_ , he wants to tell Guanlin. Jisung asked him to cover the Tea Etiquette Museum’s tea ceremony demonstrations because he’d heard about them from a friend of a friend and didn’t have anything else for Seongwoo to write about. He’s well aware this is a pity assignment, but he doesn’t want to say so in front of Guanlin. The poor kid is just an unpaid intern with a passion for photography, and Jisung’s taking a big chance on him by actually sending him out for a piece. Seongwoo doesn’t want to shake his confidence.

The sweetness of the Hwangnam bread lingers on his tongue as he takes a seat in the back row with Guanlin. The rest of the seats are filled mostly with women in their twenties, thirties, and forties. Most of them are huddled together and whispering (occasionally giggling), having seemingly come in here in groups. Seongwoo leans over to make a snide comment about demographics to ease some of the awkwardness when silence settles over the group.

He has a good view of the raised platform by virtue of being taller than almost everyone else here and can watch the tea master take the stage without straining himself. The man is dressed in a traditional hanbok, a deep purple in color, and performs a bow in front of the audience before straightening up and introducing himself as Hwang Minhyun. The group erupts in a collective sigh as his name leaves his mouth, and Minhyun’s lips twitch in amusement.

But Seongwoo barely notes the curve of his lips. He’s momentarily stunned—Minhyun has to be the most beautiful man he’s seen in his entire fucking _life_. He expected the demonstrator to be old, well into his seventies or eighties, with cloudy eyes and wrinkled skin. Minhyun is anything but, instead the sort of person you’d do a double take for if you passed him on the street. Objectively, scientifically, whatever—he’s handsome, and Seongwoo’s face warms as he realizes that he may have let out a belated sigh himself.

Minhyun begins the lecture on tea culture before launching into the demonstration. His movements lie somewhere between fluid and precise. It’s mesmerizing to watch and Seongwoo loses himself in it enough to forget about taking notes. Guanlin, meanwhile, diligently snaps pictures of the event beside him.

Once the demonstration is over, Seongwoo snaps out of his daze and looks down at his empty notepad with some regret. Guanlin leans over and nudges his shoulder. “Hyung, did you fall asleep?” he asks, heavy disapproval in his voice.

Seongwoo avoids his eyes. “Something like that,” he says, flipping through his notepad. All he has to show for that demonstration is _!!!! HOT_ scrawled in bottom right corner, and even then he’s not sure if he’s talking about the tea master or the temperature of the tea itself. “We’re fucked.” Guanlin coughs. “ _I’m_ fucked,” Seongwoo quickly amends.

He glances over at the platform where the demonstration happened. Minhyun stands off to the side, surrounded by a group of women and sporting a polite, if slightly distant smile. Seongwoo tries not to laugh. At the end of the presentation, he did say he’d be available for questions and comments afterwards. Seems like a pain. Seems like the kind of thing you’d need a rescue from, but Seongwoo doesn’t know what he would ask.

 _His number_ , a distant part of his mind supplies. That sounds sorta dangerous, though. Aesthetic appreciation is one thing, but he isn’t in the business of mixing his professional and private lives. Things have a tendency to get _messy_ with him and romance—but he’s getting ahead of himself. Better to admire from afar.

“—ask for an interview,” Guanlin finishes, and Seongwoo forces himself to snap back to attention.

“What? I spaced out, sorry.”

“Hyung.” Hearing annoyance in Guanlin’s voice is weird. He puts a hand between Seongwoo's shoulder blades and gently shoves him forward. “Ask Minhyun for an interview. You can get the info you missed from him then.”

"Oh." That sounds reasonable and less insane than what originally came to mind. "Not a bad idea, actually. Thanks, kid." Assuming he can make it through the crowd to talk to Minhyun, assuming Minhyun says yes, and assuming Seongwoo doesn't make a fool of himself in the man's presence. That's a lot of assuming. But Guanlin doesn't let him waffle, instead ushering him to the front with a click of his tongue.

Minhyun dislodges himself from the women and begins to head back to the museum. His eyes slide over Seongwoo and Guanlin for a brief second, but he turns away just shy of making eye contact and quickens his pace. Guanlin is the first of the two to panic. "Wait!" he yells, and shoves Seongwoo forward, effectively cutting Minhyun off in his tracks.

Seongwoo narrowly avoids falling at Minhyun's feet. He's glad he can maintain some composure and avoid the on-the-nose metaphor. Minhyun looks startled, his eyes widening slightly as Seongwoo stumbles to a stop. He gives Seongwoo a quick once-over before shooting an arm out to steady him. "Whoa, be careful there."

"Sorry, I—wow, sorry. I'm usually a lot more steady on my feet."

"I'm used to cleaning up spills," Minhyun smiles, his eyes crinkling, and Seongwoo chokes a little at the disparity between this expression and forced one he was sporting earlier. The sincere smile suits him a lot more, and he can hear his heart pound in his ears at the sight.

"This is a pretty bad first impression." Minhyun is still holding onto him, and his grip is surprisingly firm. Seongwoo pulls away and brushes imaginary dirt off his shirt. "Thanks for saving my a—thanks in general." He’s a professional. "Let me try again?”

Minhyun raises an eyebrow but says nothing, patiently waiting for him to continue.

Seongwoo clears his throat. “Hi, I'm Ong Seongwoo from WannaOne, the online magazine. Not sure if you heard of us, but I'm covering tea ceremonies for an article and I wanted to ask if you would be willing to sit down and talk with me?" He sounds a like teenage boy asking his crush to fucking prom. So much for composure.

"Ong?" Minhyun says after a long pause. "That's an unusual last name."

"Yeah, Ong. Not Gong or Hong or Song, but Ong." It’s physically painful to keep himself from delving into his usual routine.

"Hmmm." Minhyun glances down at the watch on his wrist. It looks at odds with the hanbok, the traditional and the modern colliding in a small way. "I have an appointment to get to, but if you could come back tomorrow at this time, I would be happy to talk to you."

"Really?" Disbelief bleeds into his tone; he didn't expect Minhyun to put time aside for him. “Uh, thank you. I really appreciate it.”

Minhyun pushes his sleeves back. "I'm always happy to spread the way of tea," he says, and Seongwoo gets the feeling that he genuinely means it. But there's something playful about his words as well, almost teasing, and the smile he gives Seongwoo is a degree too warm to be simply polite.

"Great. I will be here. Around." Minhyun's still smiling as he nods and disappears inside the museum building. Seongwoo scratches his cheek and watches him go, pulling his eyes away only when Guanlin sneaks up behind him.

"That was good," he says. "Way to go, hyung."

"Yeah." Though he's not sure what he's referring to. He's not sure what he signed himself up for either.

 

* * *

 

Seongwoo returns to the museum sans Guanlin the next day. The kid has classes, but he doesn’t need to be here anyway. They have more than enough pictures to accompany the article. It’s everything else they have to worry about, as in, all the things Seongwoo didn’t pay attention to yesterday. In an effort to salvage his pride, he managed to do some preliminary research before this meeting and is much better equipped to understand what’s going on and ask the appropriate questions than he was yesterday.

Fluff assignment or not, Seongwoo is determined to give this article his utmost. There’s something to be said about proper motivation and all.

He arrives at the venue half an hour early and spends that time wandering through the collections, lingering by the ceramics in particular. Seongwoo eventually comes to the conclusion that while everything here is very pretty, he genuinely does not give a fuck about any of the bowls or teapots here. Maybe it’s just a generational thing. He looks at this stuff and thinks it’s steeped in outdated and obsolete traditions. On the other hand, Minhyun is out here fighting to preserve it and doesn’t look that much older than Seongwoo himself.

Crouching in front of a display case, he uses his reflection in the glass to fix his hair when he feels a tap on his shoulder. “Like what you see?” he hears a familiar voice from behind him. Seongwoo wheels around to see the tea master from yesterday standing there, a smile playing on his lips. "Narcissism isn't a good look on anyone."

"It's hard not to be narcissistic when you have a face like mine," is Seongwoo's instinctive response. Or yours, he wants to add. His memory didn’t do Minhyun justice. Up close, he’s as brilliant as he was the other day. Seongwoo isn’t sure if his awe stems from jealousy or attraction. Both, maybe.

Seongwoo registers what he said a moment too late. Minhyun looks taken aback at the statement, then bursts into laughter. Far from a poised or elegant sound, it’s ugly, high pitched and wheezing, causing Seongwoo to join in at the sheer absurdity of it coming from a guy like Hwang Minhyun. Unexpected, but not unwelcome.

"You have a point," Minhyun concedes once he brings his laughter under control. Inclining his head towards the door, he gestures for Seongwoo to follow him through the museum. "You wanted an interview, if I remember correctly? The cafe would be a better place to talk than here."

"Oh, yeah. That is why I'm here. _Yep._ " Interview, yeah, definitely a thing. It's not like he momentarily forgot about his reason for coming all the way to Gimpo from Seoul. Seongwoo shakes his head and flashes Minhyun a bright smile. “Lead the way.”

Minhyun takes him to the museum’s cafe. They’re a conspicuous sight: Minhyun, still dressed in a hanbok, gracious and dignified as he brings two cups of green tea for them with a generous side of snacks, and Seongwoo, looking like something you’d find in a dumpster—dumpster adjacent, to be precise. He didn’t pay as much attention to his hair or outfit as he should have before leaving the house.

He reaches for the tea first, but Minhyun shakes his head. “You should eat before you drink green tea, or you’ll risk upsetting your stomach.” Seongwoo purses his lips and stares down at the clear liquid with suspicion. “There’s a high concentration of caffeine in it," Minhyun elaborates, chuckling. “It’s not going to _poison_ you, but it might make you feel strange.”

“Joke’s on you, I’m pretty sure caffeine runs in my veins.” Seongwoo laughs but takes one of the sweets first. “But alright—cheers.” He pops it into his mouth and swallows before reaching for the tea again. The taste of the two mixed together is… not entirely bad; maybe it’s the sweet that makes it less bitter, or maybe it’s supposed to be bitter all along. He’s not sure, but it’s not all _bad._

“It takes getting used to, if you don’t have it often.” Minhyun raises his own cup to his lips, using both hands to drink, and finishes it in precisely three sips. Seongwoo thinks he remembers something important about that from yesterday, but the specifics slip his mind. Regardless, Minhyun is careful and poised, while Seongwoo accidentally dribbles some down the side of his cup and mops it up with his sleeve.

 _You’re a fucking uncultured swine_ , he thinks to himself, hoping Minhyun didn’t notice. If he did, he doesn’t say anything. Seongwoo feels rough and unrefined next to Minhyun and his gracefulness. Not something he would ordinarily notice about himself, but it’s hard not to while sitting across from elegance personified. Instead of feeling bad about himself, Seongwoo tries to move on. "You never get sick of it?" he asks, gesturing to the bowl as Minhyun sets it down. Seongwoo means the tea, the hanbok, the restraint, the whole thing.

He’s not sure what kind of an answer he’s looking for. Minhyun doesn’t say anything for a while, just sits there with his hands in his lap and gazes out the window at the empty grounds, sighing. “No. Not really.” He smiles ruefully. “I don’t really have a right to. I don’t have much going on in my life beyond this.” Minhyun spreads his arms out, then lets them fall back into his lap.

There’s a hint of bitterness in his tone that Seongwoo doesn't know what to do with, but it's gone as quickly as it came. Minhyun turns back to him with a professional expression. “So, what do you want to know about tea ceremonies? I went over the basics yesterday, so if there is anything beyond that—”

The thing is, Seongwoo wasn’t paying attention to the demonstration yesterday. His guilt must be written on his face because Minhyun laughs, teeth flashing, and reaches over to pat his hand. “It’s okay, we can start from the beginning. I don’t mind repeating myself for you.”

The brief moment of contact throws him for a loop. Seongwoo wonders if it means something, or if Minhyun is simply a tactile person. He decides to take it at face value, but does tug his hand away under the pretense of opening up his notepad to the questions he jotted down on the way up here. Professionalism, Seongwoo reminds himself. “We could start with—” But he makes the mistake of looking up and whatever he was going to say flies out the window. Minhyun stares at him with such intensity that his skin tingles. “How did you become interested in tea culture?”

There’s silence between them. Then Minhyun’s mouth presses into a thin line. “I didn’t know this was a profile on me,” he says blandly.

“It’s—not. Sorry, I don’t know why I asked.” Way to go. Offended your contact, Seongwoo. You’re an asshole, Seongwoo. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

“I don’t mind answering, exactly. I was just unprepared.” Minhyun folds his hands on top of each other and leans forward. “I went to high school in Japan and joined the tea ceremony club there. It was a great way to relieve stress, find a bit of serenity and stability so far from home.” His mouth twitches. “When I came back to Korea, I was curious about how the practice differed here. Honestly, I became an expert by accident while trying to learn more.”

Seongwoo expected a different response, perhaps a passionate one. But Minhyun sounds distant, almost disinterested as he speaks, as if he’s giving Seongwoo a rehearsed answer. “That’s cool. So this is something you really care about, huh?”

“Care about? Yeah, I suppose. To some degree.”

“Then why do you still do it? I mean, why are you here?” Seongwoo looks around, then pointedly back at Minhyun. “This seems like the kind of place you’d be because you want to, you know? Because you feel strongly about the kind of work you do? Because you feel some kind of connection.”

“I find peace in it, and it’s something I’m good at.” Minhyun seems to realize how unenthusiastic he sounds and blushes. The red coloring his cheeks is a stark contrast to his pale skin. “I don’t hate—”

"It's alright to feel unsatisfied with what you're doing every now and then," Seongwoo says gently. He's not sure how they got here, but Minhyun looks distressed and he wants to do his best to help.

“Not during an interview.” Minhyun says sharply, and Seongwoo concedes. He can't argue with that.

Seongwoo glances down at his notepad and realizes how off track they’ve veered. This is not how things were supposed to go, and a look at the clock tells him that they're wasting time.

Minhyun comes to the same conclusion and hurriedly rushes into an explanation to diffuse the awkwardness, walking him through the brief history of tea culture and the differences between Chinese, Korean, and Japanese tea ceremonies. He delves into the philosophy and use of utensils before tapering off. By the time he's done, Seongwoo's notepad is full of as much information as he could possibly need. He probably won't use all of it, but it's good to know. He feels like something of an expert.

Though he can't hold a candle to the actual expert. Minhyun's face is slightly flushed as he massages his throat and orders another green tea. If it really does have that much caffeine, he's probably going to be wired for the next little while, but Seongwoo stops himself from pointing that out. He's sure Minhyun knows. "You know," he begins casually, pocketing his notebook. "This actually would be a good profile piece on you, now that I think about it. Think about it. You could become the emperor of tea."

Minhyun frowns. “I don’t think I’d want to be the star of any piece.” When Seongwoo looks at him in confusion, his expression melts into one of amusement. "I'm shy," he says, straight-faced, not looking bashful at all.

"You just did a demonstration to a ground of fifty or so people and you have another event scheduled in an hour. How can you be _shy_?"

Minhyun’s face splits into an amused grin. He raises an eyebrow as if to say he notes Seongwoo’s familiarity with his schedule. “I don’t volunteer for it. The museum asks me to. My, er, events are always full."

“Is it—” Seongwoo stops short of being rude, but Minhyun shakes his head.

“You can say it. Is it because of my skills or my looks? I don’t know.” He hesitates; some of the bitterness returns. “If it is because of my looks, at least I can make sure people walk away having accidentally learned something.”

Well, this is awkward. He laughs to lighten the mood. “Mission successful, then. I know a lot more about tea than I ever planned to.” Leaning back in his chair, he winks. “I’m a coffee guy, but you might have converted me. I mean, I don’t really have the time to slow down and do any rituals, but I can see the use in it now. It’s kinda beautiful in its own way.”

“Ah.” Minhyun fiddles with the hem of his sleeves. “So you were lured here by my looks too? Does that mean you think I'm handsome?" There's a sudden lightness to his voice, a glint in his eyes as he leans forward, and suddenly professionalism doesn’t seem to be at the forefront of Seongwoo’s mind. Minhyun’s lashes are long, nearly faint in the sunlight, and Seongwoo swallows at his proximity.

“You need to ask me something you already know?” he says finally, blinking hard. Hard to remember to maintain boundaries when Minhyun keeps attempting to draw him closer.

Minhyun hums under his breath. “I suppose not.”

Ignoring his racing pulse, Seongwoo packs his notepad away and pulls out his wallet. “Thanks for helping me with the information. I know you’re probably busy and had no reason to say yes.” He throws a few bills down on the table. “For the drinks and the snacks. On me.” Ignoring Minhyun’s protests, he says, “I’ll write it off.”

Minhyun crosses his arms and stares at the money with a pensive set to his mouth. “You know,” he begins slowly. “A lot of people invite me out after these demonstrations—it’s not out of the ordinary. This might be the first time I’ve said yes, though.” He glances up and catches Seongwoo’s eye. “I’m glad I did.”

Seongwoo stands up, avoiding his gaze. He wonders if Minhyun thought the interview thing was some kind of an excuse to take him out. Of course, he can see why it might come across as that, but Minhyun did agree. There’s maybe more wrapped up in the ‘yes’ than he originally thought. “I dunno about comparisons. I mean, this is strictly business.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he catches the slight downturn of Minhyun’s smile, the imperceptible slump of his shoulders as the words strictly business hang between them like an iron curtain. Seongwoo regrets them the minute they’re out, but it’s probably better this way. No matter how much he might’ve liked talking to Minhyun or found him attractive, romance is messy, chaotic, complicated on the best of days, even without the crossing of personal and professional lines.

Besides, Minhyun seems like an ideal, whereas Seongwoo isn’t. Minhyun’s in a different league altogether, one Seongwoo isn’t good enough to play in. He deserves someone equal—and that’s not self-deprecating, just realistic.

Still, Minhyun’s gaze is open and honest as he mutters, "Shame."

Seongwoo’s mouth moves on its own accord. “Were you hoping for something more?”

Minhyun stands up as well. He’s just the tiniest bit taller than Seongwoo. “I don’t know,” he answers, looking at Seongwoo straight-on. “If I say yes, would that change anything?”

Seongwoo hesitates; this would be the perfect chance to break out the charm and ask Minhyun for his number, make a promise to see him again, tell him it would change everything because at the end of the day, Seongwoo is more than a little interested in the handsome, well-spoken, old-fashioned man with the cynical eyes. With Minhyun offering so plainly, who is he to say no? It’s not a commitment. It can’t hurt, no matter what his doubts are.

But he waits too long and the moment passes. Minhyun bids him farewell with a cold politeness and returns to the museum.

Seongwoo leaves empty-handed.

 

* * *

 

He bangs out the article in a couple of hours with Netflix playing in the background. Not his best work, again, but he’s satisfied with how it turns out. Guanlin copies him on the email he shoots Jisung with the pictures from the demonstration. Seongwoo clicks through them to find ones he recommends pairing with the article and finds himself lingering on the ones featuring Minhyun for a little longer than necessary.

It doesn’t matter anyway. He blew it. All the sight of Minhyun’s face reminds him of is his own stupidity. The problem is that he never knows what he wants. His indecision paralyzes him in important moments, but more than that, every time he gets close to something, he feels like violently backing off. Minhyun is no different. He's never met someone who makes him want to propel backwards with as much intensity as Minhyun does.

It’s _messy_ —what isn’t.

But despite everything, Minhyun sticks in Seongwoo’s mind; there’s something magical about him.

He sends the draft of the article to Jisung and decides to enter the world of the living again. That mostly means showering, getting dressed, and checking to see if his roommate is alive (Daniel is, just parked in front of his PC trying to solo carry his team to victory on this map).

Seongwoo heads out after that, stopping by his usual haunt to grab a cup of coffee and reading for a while before heading to WannaOne's tiny office space. Guanlin and Sungwoon are the only people (aside from Jisung) in today, and neither of them pretend to be working when Seongwoo shows up. Guanlin is taking dumb pictures of Sungwoon with a polaroid camera that looks older than Seongwoo, who ignores them and heads straight to Jisung's desk.

“Hey,” Jisung says, not even glancing up from his screen. “Finished looking at your article.” He nods at the papers on top of the tall pile balanced precariously near the edge of the desk. Seongwo gingerly picks it up and flips through, wincing at all the red.

“Brutal. You’re slashing paragraphs like you know what I did last summer.”

“Cutting away the fluff.” Jisung stops typing and looks up at him. “No offense, Seongwoo, but you devoted three entire paragraphs talking about some dude who sounds like he smells like vitamin supplements—”

_“Hey!”_

“I mean, do you really need half a page to wax poetic about how good-looking he was?” When Seongwoo doesn’t say anything, Jisung sighs. “I need you to revise.”

"It's not my fault!" Yeah, get defensive. As if that will prove anything. He didn’t even realize he devoted that much space to talking about Minhyun. “If you saw him, you’d agree,” he grumbles, sinking into the chair across from Jisung and leafing through the edits again. What a pain in the ass.

Jisung gives him an unimpressed look. “So did you ask him out?” he asks. Seongwoo says nothing, and Jisung takes his silence as a no. “You _didn’t?_ Jesus, what am I going to do with you?”

“Leave me alone,” Seongwoo mutters. “It’s not that simple.”

“Yeah, yeah. Romance is messy, or whatever.” Jisung waves a hand in the air dismissively. “But everyone’s gotta deal with messes every now and then. Life would be pretty boring without them.”

Seongwoo hates admitting Jisung has a point. “Easy for you to say. Need I remind you that my last relationship was just a case of some dude in China catfishing the fuck out of me for eleven months? And the one before that ended with my ex slashing my tires after we broke up?” Relationships are exhausting.

“Okay, that’s because you’re not the best judge of character.” Seongwoo makes a face but can’t disagree with Jisung’s logic. “This guy—Minhyun?—seems fairly average. Maybe a little pretentious, but you are too.”

He feels like a kid being lectured by their headmaster, except, you know, this would be the weirdest fucking lecture to get in the headmaster’s office. He buries his face in his hands and groans. “He’s out of my league.”

“Bullshit. There’s no such thing.”

“Thank you for the ringing vote of confidence.”

Jisung points a pen at him. “All I’m saying is, don’t get all doom and gloom on me right in the beginning. Don’t give up before you even give it a shot because you already decided on how things would go in your mind.” He pauses and tosses the pen down. “If you really like this guy, don’t _Seongwoo it up_.”

Wait. "What the fuck is _Seongwoo-ing it up_?"

"You know, the backwards crab walk you do whenever you catch feelings or when someone seems interested in you.”

Tough love Jisung is rude. "I'm not having this conversation," Seongwoo says, standing up. He rolls the edited draft up and tucks it under his arm. “I’ll get the revisions to you by tonight. How critical is this?”

“Not very,” Jisung says plainly. “Just think about what I said, okay? Don’t miss out because you were scared to try. Though maybe keep from writing overblown poetry about him; it might send him running.”

“I’m not talking to you until you’re nice to me again.” Seongwoo gives him a nod and says bye to Guanlin and Sungwoon, ruffling the younger man’s hair as he goes. He almost ruffles Sungwoon’s hair too, but a glare from the shorter man nips that idea in the bud.

Jisung chuckles. “He really is handsome though. I feel you.” Seongwoo glances over his shoulder to see one of Guanlin’s pictures of Minhyun pulled up on Jisung’s screen. Grinning, Jisung adds, “Good luck, man,” and Seongwoo, for some inexplicable reason, turns pink.

 

* * *

 

“Hey,” Seongwoo says to a display of teapots. “I was in the area and thought I’d stop by.” It sounds stupid to his own ears. _I was in the area._ Coming from Seoul to Gimpo is not ‘being in the area.’ Coming from Seoul to Gimpo to hang out at a museum is not ‘stopping by.’ So much for a backwards crab walk; he’s heading straight into the water instead. And swimming? Not his forte.

But Jisung has successfully gotten under his skin. He spent the last week thinking about past relationships, life philosophies, and most importantly, Hwang Minhyun. Seongwoo is willing to admit that Jisung might have a point somewhere in his, frankly insulting, lectures. Maybe he _does_ get caught up in his head too much, and maybe he has already decided on an outcome without giving it a shot.

So he’s trying to be bold. Branch out, step into the real world, dive in headfirst, whatever you want to call it. Except this is mildly stalkerish of him. Seongwoo drops his head against the wall. What is he doing here, unannounced and uninvited? He used to have dignity. He used to have dignity and pride and—

“Seongwoo?”

 _Hell._ He wheels around to see Minhyun studying his curiously. The prepared excuses lie on his tongue, but when Minhyun asks what he’s doing here, he says, “I came to see you.” A pause where they both look at each other, daring the other to break the sudden tension. Seongwoo caves first. “For work purposes.”

“Oh.” Minhyun doesn’t sound surprised or disappointed, just blank. “Give me a couple of minutes? I want to go get changed.”

"Yeah, sure. Take your time."

He lingers in the lobby waiting for Minhyun until he feels a tug on his arm. Seongwoo is yanked out of the museum by a man is height, dressed in black pants and a black hoodie. Seongwoo only registers who it is once he catches a glimpse of the man’s face. “Minhyun?” he says, incredulous. “What—holy shit, I didn’t recognize you there.” He blinks but the image in front of him doesn’t change. “You look good.”

Minhyun laughs and laces his fingers with Seongwoo’s, who doesn’t pull away immediately.

They eventually come to a stop outside a coffee shop. A _Starbucks_ , of all things. Seongwoo is still gaping as he steps inside and snags them a table in the back under Minhyun’s orders. Minhyun stands in line for the both of them, blending into the crowd in his nondescript clothing. He looks younger than usual, more casual and approachable, and a distant part of Seongwoo notes that his ass looks great in those pants. Once their drinks are ready, Minhyun returns to the table and gently sets them down.

Brushing his hair out of his eyes, he laughs at the shock frozen on Seongwoo’s face. “You do know I don’t dress in a hanbok all the time? It’s a job, not a lifestyle.”

"I mean, I do know _now_. I kinda thought they just plugged you in at the end of the day somewhere in the museum." Conspiracy theory: Hwang Minhyun is actually a robot. It would make sense.

Minhyun frowns. “Ha. You’re hilarious.” He takes a sip of his coffee and sighs, slumping down in his seat. “I hate these overpriced drinks, but I’m too reliant on them. Really needed this today, though. It’s been tough.”

“And another thing,” Seongwoo says, taking a sip of his own Americano. “You’re a coffee drinker? A _Starbucks_ coffee drinker? I can feel my head imploding.”

“You don’t know anything about me, Seongwoo.”

“I guess not, but I’d like to.” He tips his head towards Minhyun’s drink. “Starting with your coffee order. C’mon, spill. What keeps you alive during the day?”

“I don’t think we’ve reached that level of intimacy yet,” Minhyun counters with a grin, wrapping both his hands around the cup. “A man’s coffee order is sacred.”

Seongwoo hangs his head and sniffles exaggeratedly. “I came all this way just to be rejected? Fate is a cruel mistress and you, Hwang Minhyun, are its bitch.”

“Excuse me?” But he’s laughing, far from offended. “Do you even hear the things coming out of your mouth sometimes?”

“Nah. I mean, _yeah_ , but nah.” Seongwoo shrugs. “If I think about it too much, it gets boring.”

“You seem like you think too much about everything else, though.” Minhyun sobers up and takes another long sip of his drink. “Why _did_ you come all the way up here?” His voice is even, lacking any sort of curiosity one would expect to hear. “The work thing you wanted to talk about—”

 _Is nonexistent_ , Seongwoo should probably say. He didn’t have any reason to come here other than wanting to see Minhyun. Work has nothing to do with it. His fingers twitch. “I don’t know,” Seongwoo says eventually. “Would you believe me if I said my feet just led me here?”

“You had to have come by bus or rail—”

Seongwoo cracks a smile despite himself. “Not _literally_.” Minhyun’s right, there are some things he thinks too much about, and some questions he doesn’t know how to answer even after dwelling on them for a while. “It’s about the article, actually—finally survived the latest round of brutal edits. My editor will be posting it tomorrow, so we’ll be introducing more people to tea ceremonies and the museum in general. Get ready for a big rush from now on.”

“You’ll single handedly keep us in business,” Minhyun says drily. “Congratulations, though. I’m looking forward to reading it! You’ve worked hard.”

“Ah, well, not that hard.” Seongwoo rubs his nose sheepishly. “I could’ve put in a little more effort, to be honest. I got a little… distracted, then motivated, then distracted again. It was a complicated writing process.” He fails to mention Minhyun was the cause of all three states, but figures it’s one of those things that doesn’t need to be said.

“You like it, though.” It’s almost a question. “It seems tough and time-consuming, but rewarding too. You enjoy what you do.”

“Of course? I mean,” Seongwoo laughs. “It’s nothing special, I guess. Another way to keep writing.” Minhyun doesn’t say anything, just gives Seongwoo his undivided attention. He’s reluctant to continue, however. What could possibly be interesting about this topic?

But Minhyun gestures for him to keep going when the silence drags on too long. “I can’t imagine not writing; it’s always been a passion of mine, but what makes me happier than that is working at WannaOne, I guess. I joined because I believe in Jisung and I haven’t regretted it. And I mean, it’s not really the most profitable job, but I enjoy it. I don’t have trouble waking up the morning because I’m excited about what I’m doing.” He breaks off with an embarrassed chuckle.

“It sounds nice.”

“Guessing you don’t feel the same.”

Minhyun drains his coffee and sighs. “I used to have that feeling of waking up excited in the morning. I thought what I was doing was important. I studied history in university, and this job really fell into my lap after I graduated and came back to Korea. I thought it was fate, to some degree. I was doing important work related to what I loved.” He shakes his head. “But I don’t know if any of it actually matters. Seems like we’re just putting in a lot of effort into something that’s outdated and obsolete. A relic of an earlier time.”

“Whoa.” Seongwoo’s not sure how he’s supposed to respond.

“Funding cuts are a great time for introspection, I guess.” Minhyun leans back in his chair and stretches his legs out under the table. They bump against Seongwoo, who folds them to give Minhyun more room. “They’re right, though. We have a decent number of visitors here, but no one really cares about any of it. They’re here for their own agendas.”

“But you do,” Seongwoo says. “You care.” He can’t see why Minhyun would be so worked up about it if he didn’t.

Minhyun lets out a sardonic laugh. “Well, the things I usually care about don’t work out.”

That sounds oddly familiar. Seongwoo runs a hand through his hair. “Don’t… don’t come to a baseless conclusion on your own.” It’s like a full circle; Jisung’s words echo back in his attempt at giving advice. “You can’t give up like that. _Make_ people care. You made me give a shit.”

“Really,” Minhyun says, but he doesn’t sound convinced.

“ _Really._ Okay, I’m not quitting my day job to swim in tea or anything, but I learned a couple of things and I think it’s cool. Something worth preserving. I think we’d regret it if we didn’t.” Seongwoo sucks at pep talks. He could write you an inspirational speech, but he doesn’t think his words have that much impact.  
  
But Minhyun hums thoughtfully and looks down at his cup. “Something worth preserving,” he repeats. “Thanks for thinking of it that way.”

“Don’t _thank_ me,” Seongwoo laughs. “I’m just being honest. And trying to help in whatever misguided way I can.”

“You’re a certified therapist.”

“Call me Doctor.”

Minhyun plainly refuses to do so in spite of Seongwoo’s silent egging on and glances at his watch. “Thank you for the coffee and moral support, though I should be heading back to the museum.” He stands up and tosses his cup in the trash. “Is that all you wanted?”

“Oh, no I—” Seongwoo stands up as well. “I think you better give me your number. For the article, so I can text you the link tomorrow instead of sending you searching for it.”

Minhyun lets out an undignified snort, but takes Seongwoo’s offered phone and enters his number in. “For business purposes only, right?”

“Is that right? Better discard the hot sexts I was planning to send you." He was not supposed to say that.

“No, please send them. I’ll be looking forward to it.”

“Listen,” Seongwoo says, a little desperately. “You gotta wine and dine me first.”

“So, are you offering or hinting…?” Minhyun’s eyebrows draw together in confusion, and Seongwoo honestly doesn’t blame him. He’s a mess of mixed signals, and any conviction he had is shattered now. He genuinely doesn’t know whether he wants to run backwards or forwards into Minhyun.

“I.. don’t know.” He takes his phone back and tucks it into his pocket. “It was great talking to you though. I will send you that article as soon as it comes out.”

Disappointment tightens the corners of Minhyun’s eyes, but he doesn’t protest, just ducks his head and heads for the door. “I’ll wait,” he says, and it seems to have a double meaning that Seongwoo is sure he’s going to spend hours analyzing. But for now, he waves goodbye and looks down at Minhyun’s contact info on his phone.

 _TEA EMPEROR HWANG MINHYUN._ It’s cute. And this is progress.

 

* * *

 

 **ong seongwoo** (12:01 PM):  
_[ link ]_  
it’s out!

 **hwang minhyun** (12:13 PM):  
Congratulations!  
_[ sticker ]_  
I’ll read and get back to you.  
I hope you didn’t slander me in here or anything.

 **ong seongwoo** (12:17 PM):  
only good things i promise  
actually my editor made me cut out a ton of stuff  
so this isn't a full reflection of what i wanted to write  
there was a paragraph about yo  
you know what i'm just going to let you finish reading

 **hwang minhyun** (12:25 PM):  
I’m done.

 **ong seongwoo** (12:26 PM):  
annnnnnnnnnnnnnd

 **hwang minhyun** (12:28 PM):  
It was good. Informative, clear, and witty enough not to be dry.  
You’re a good writer.  
And now a tea ceremony expert.  
_[sticker]_

 **ong seongwoo** (12:30 PM):  
i learned from the best xxxx  
shit my hand slipped there

 **hwang minhyun** (12:31 PM):  
Lmao

 **ong seongwoo** (12:31 PM):  
did you just

 **hwang minhyun** (12:32 PM):  
I use chatspeak sometimes too

 **ong seongwoo** (12:34 PM):  
sure  
still trying to wrap my head around the idea of you texting though  
it’s weird  
like seeing a caveman use a cell phone

 **hwang minhyun** (12:36 PM):  
Wow  
I’ll send you a message via carrier pigeon next time.

 **ong seongwoo** (12:36 PM):  
please don’t i’m scared of birds

 **hwang minhyun** (12:39 PM):  
Actually, I’ve been thinking...  
It might be nice for you to film a demonstration video to accompany the article.  
You could do it yourself.  
I can teach you if you’d like?

 **ong seongwoo** (12:41 PM):  
that’s not a bad idea?  
let me ask my editor

 **ong seongwoo** (12:52 PM):  
okay he’s all for it  
so let me know when you’re free?  
and thanks

 **hwang minhyun** (12:54 PM):  
Friday @ 1 pm?

 **ong seongwoo** (12:56 PM):  
i’ll make time  
can’t wait!  
to learn and stuff

 **hwang minhyun** (12:57 PM):  
You’re sure you’re not just excited to see me again?

 **ong seongwoo** (12:58 PM):  
someone’s full of themselves

 **hwang minhyun** (12:59 PM):  
No, just fishing.

 **ong seongwoo** (1:01 PM):  
it’s a maybe from me  
see you

 **hwang minhyun** (1:03 PM):  
Looking forward to it.

 

* * *

 

“You know, one of these days I’m going to convince you to take me out somewhere nice,” Seongwoo jokes, sliding the door shut behind him. Minhyun booked one of the museum’s traditional tea rooms for the one-on-one lesson. It’s decorated with antiques or convincing knock-offs, and Seongwoo feels stuffy just standing in here. Serenity will probably come later, but right now, he just wants to stick his head out a window and breathe in the fresh air.

Minhyun chuckles. “It almost sounds like you’re asking me to take you out on a date.” He glances back and smirks. “Or do you mean for business purposes only?”

He walked into that one. “You’re really not going to let that go, huh?” Seongwoo groans, running his fingers over a calligraphy scroll. Some of the ink flakes off and he quickly wipes his hands clean on his pants. A date for business purposes. Sounds like most of their interactions so far.

“Nope,” Minhyun says cheerfully. He’s in good spirits today. So is Seongwoo; his enthusiasm is infectious. Seongwoo leans against the wall and watches as Minhyun carefully pulls utensils out and arranges them on a tray. “This place is nice,” he continues, a beat later.

“It reminds me of my grandmother,” Seongwoo responds. Minhyun gestures for him to take a seat and he follows obediently.

“I… remind you of your grandmother?” Minhyun sounds scandalized and Seongwoo can’t blame him.

“No! I mean the room. It’s got old stuff and she… likes old stuff.”

“Alright.” His eyes sparkle with mirth as Seongwoo scrambles to explain himself. “Now that you put me on the same level as your grandmother, we should start.”

“I do not—” He breaks off and sighs. “Nah, go ahead.”

“We’ll go over the ceremony before filming. It’s not that hard to get a hang of, but if you’re not used to this sort of thing, it can get overwhelming.” Seongwoo looks down at the neatly arranged tray and senses panic begin to mount. Closing his eyes, he tries to think back to the day he first saw Minhyun and his demonstration then, but he can’t tease out any sort of logic or order to the ceremony from his memory. “Don’t worry,” Minhyun says. Seongwoo’s eyes fly open. “I’ll guide you.”

And Minhyun does. He’s gentle and patient with Seongwoo’s fumbling attempts to match his fluid movements. Seongwoo is in awe all over again, but he has no time to lose himself in watching Minhyun. He tries to focus, but there’s a lot to pay attention to. How to wipe the bowls, how to move his arms, how to hold the utensils. Seongwoo’s hands are clammy, his movements jerky.

He wipes one of the bowls too much and nearly drops it, but Minhyun’s hands are immediately on his, correcting his grip with a quiet laugh. Seongwoo isn’t a huge fan of unnecessary physical contact, but Minhyun’s touch doesn’t want to make him recoil. He holds his breath instead, content to have Minhyun covering his hands.

“You’re too stiff and nervous,” Minhyun chides. “You need to—” His face is close. Too close. Seongwoo can feel his breath on his skin. Silence settles around them like a warm blanket, dulling all sounds except the frantic beating of his heart. Seongwoo’s tongue darts out to wet his lips. This is too much, he thinks, blinking. _This is way too much._

Minhyun glances up at him through his lashes. “Seongwoo,” he says, and Seongwoo nods instinctively.

There’s a moment of silence.

Then Minhyun kisses him. It's gentle, maybe, a slight press of the lips, the bowl still held between them. His mouth is unsure, hesitant, but determined nonetheless. He deepens the kiss and Seongwoo tries to keep a hold on his sanity while thinking what the fuck and oh god. Minhyun’s lips part and Seongwoo’s tongue slides inside. A split second later, he realizes what the fuck he’s doing and yanks himself away, chest heaving.

The bowl slips. Tea splashes onto the antique rug, onto Minhyun’s hanbok and Seongwoo’s pants. “Shit. Shit. I’m so sorry. It was a mistake. This is all wrong.” He frantically tries to mop up as much of the spill he can with his bare hands. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t apologize,” Minhyun says, and for a moment, he just stares at Seongwoo, Adam’s apple bobbing like he’s struggling for what to say next. Then he tears his gaze away and stands up, reaching for a rag. “We have some time to get things going again. And nothing broke, so it’s fine.”

“Yeah,” Seongwoo says quietly. It just… doesn’t seem sincere, at all. But he clambers to his feet and helps Minhyun clean up, keeping his mind on other things as best he can.

The taste of Minhyun’s lips lingers.

 

* * *

 

 **ong seongwoo** (9:22 PM):  
sorry about everything  
i feel like i spilled more tea than i drank

 **hwang minhyun** (9:27 PM):  
It’s fine. We were able to get through everything.  
You’re pretty good at this.

 **ong seongwoo** (9:32 PM):  
it’s all because i had a good teacher   
thank u master   
i mean master as like a. tea master.  
a teacher.  
fuck i should’ve said teacher i’m sorry   
not that i mind the other—  
on a scale of one to ten how stupid do i sound

 **hwang minhyun** (9:35 PM):  
Hmmmmm… 4.5?  
I think it’s charming.

 **ong seongwoo** (9:36 PM):  
you find my fumbling attempts to seduce you charming?

 **hwang minhyun** (9:39 PM):  
So you were trying to seduce me.  
I wasn’t sure.

 **ong seongwoo** (9:41 PM):  
seriously??  
i  
don't know what to say

 **hwang minhyun** (9:48 PM):  
I didn’t know what to expect.  
You’re… slippery. You give off that feeling.  
Like I don’t know where I stand.  
I don’t know if half the things you do are genuine.

 **ong seongwoo** (9:50 PM):  
that’s hurtful

 **hwang minhyun** (9:51 PM):  
Sorry.  
Just being honest.

 **ong seongwoo** (9:52 PM):  
what about you   
you said you did this kind of thing often

 **hwang minhyun** (9:55 PM):  
Not this.  
I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m not exactly suave.  
And all this — not used to it.

 **ong seongwoo** (9:58 PM):  
i don’t want to do this over text  
you free tomorrow?  
can you meet me here  
_[ location sent ]_

 **hwang minhyun** (10:11 PM):  
I think I should be free?  
You’re right; we should talk.  
I’ll see you there.

 **hwang minhyun** (10:44 PM):  
Goodnight Seongwoo.

 **ong seongwoo** (10:46 PM):  
goodnight

 

* * *

 

Seongwoo and Guanlin share a table at the cafe a few blocks from the office, working on their individual assignments in companionable silence. They escape to this coffee to get work done pretty often; the rest of their coworkers at WannaOne are too noisy (Seongwoo included, but he blames others for influencing him).

Though despite the conducive work environment, he can’t really focus on what he’s writing. His mind is on Minhyun and the inevitable talk coming up. He asked for it, but he has no idea what he wants to aim for. He shuts his laptop and closes his eyes. It’s not happening today and he needs to accept that.

“You look nervous,” Guanlin says, frowning. He has Photoshop pulled up on his screen, but seems more interested in Seongwoo inner dilemma that what he’s supposed to be retouching.

“Nervous? ‘lil ‘ole me? _Never_.” Seongwoo opens his eyes and coughs. “You sure about that?”

“You look really nice too, hyung,” Guanlin continues slowly, almost suspiciously.

“Guanlin, I’m too old for you.”

"Hyung," Guanlin says, exasperated. He leans forward across the table and squints. “Please.”

Seongwoo sighs. “Alright… I asked someone to meet me here in ten or so minutes? And I may be quietly freaking out.”

“A romantic someone?”

“I hope so…?” An almost, a future, a could-be-if-he-doesn’t-Seongwoo-it-up. As much as he hates the term, the shoe fits.

Guanlin studies him with heavy eyes, looking wise beyond his years. Seongwoo tries not to squirm in his seat under his gaze. Finally, he nods and pumps both fists up. “Fighting! Don’t do something stupid.”

"I'm being chastised by a kid again. Great." He does not want to make a habit of this.

Before he can continue, the bell above the door rings and a familiar figure walks in. Minhyun, dressed in a white shirt and fitted pants, looking around the place with wide eyes until he spots Seongwoo who waves him over with a grin. Minhyun holds up a finger and gets in line to snag a cup of coffee.

“Uh, that’s the tea guy from the museum,” Guanlin says, pulling his attention away from Minhyun.

“Yes.” Minhyun picks up his cup and heads over. “And you should move, maybe.”

Guanlin’s already gathering up his things and making a beeline for an empty table. “Good luck!” he calls out over his shoulder. “Go get it, hyung!”

 _Get what_ , Seongwoo mouths to himself, but his mouth snaps shut as Minhyun takes the seat Guanlin just vacated and sets his cup down. “He’s your photographer from the other day?” he asks, following Seongwoo’s gaze.

“Yeah; he’s a cute and hard working kid.”

They sit in silence for a while until Minhyun finally clears his throat. “So. There was something you wanted to talk about?” His expression is guarded, almost stiff, and Seongwoo’s own expression slips slightly at the sight. “Like mature adults, since I don’t want to spend my day off circling around the main issue.”

Seongwoo flinches. Circling around the issue… like hawks. Or vultures. Or some other weird ass metaphor that brings awful mental pictures to mind. “Yeah. Um, look. This is awkward. I’ve been dancing around things for a while and being frustrating and just generally fucking things up. It’s 100% on me.”

“You _are_ frustrating,” Minhyun agrees. “Confusing. Worth it, maybe, but I just don’t know it yet because you won’t let me.”

“I like you. A lot,” Seongwoo blurts out. “I want to get to know you more and spend time with you—not for business purposes or whatever excuse I can come up with, but because I just do. I don’t care if it involves silly dates or holding hands or bad innuendos or waiting outside the museum like a sappy puppy, I’ll do it. I just want us to be something that involves a lot kissing, maybe. No, definitely.”

“Like, boyfriends?” Minhyun sounds amused, a smile playing on his lips, and Seongwoo wants to bury his face in his hands in embarrassment. He doesn’t do feelings like this, now or ever.

“Like boyfriends.”

Minhyun crosses his arms over his chest. "Well, I guess that's clear as day."

"If you want to doubt my sincerity, I can dedicate an over-the-top public display of affection to you or something." Skywriting? Jumping out of a plane with a sign? Macaroni art?

“I don’t need that.” Minhyun uncrosses his arms and scoots forward. “I don’t need anything fancy. Just honesty is fine with me.” He trails off and sighs. “I don’t know if we’re there yet, but I would like to get there because I like you too. And the kiss was nice. I’d like to do that again too.”

It’s a lot more than Seongwoo was expecting. It’s hopeful and realistic—not that he would be in any position to complain otherwise. "Is that a maybe, then?" Optimism doesn’t come naturally to him, but for Minhyun, he could try to think positively and make it work.

"It's a _we'll see_ ," Minhyun laughs, but then leans across the table to take Seongwoo's hand. "In the meantime, we can do all of the above."

Seongwoo grins and gives his hand a squeeze. "Let's start with the kissing."

"I can agree to that."

 

* * *

 

**A SELECTION OF ARTICLES PUBLISHED BY ONG SEONGWOO IN 2017:**

  * Not Your _Jurassic World_ , or How to Crush a Dinosaur Lover’s Dream
  * SEX ON FIRE: A Glimpse into South Korea’s Underground Porn Industry
  * INTERVIEW: Jung Sewoon Tells His Fans _Never Mind_ in His Newest Single Release
  * How to Make a Very Public and Sincere Apology to Your Boyfriend for Being a Dick (and Not the Good Kind)
  * [ SERIES ] Tea With Emperor Hwang: _Sen no Rikyu_ and the Origins of Japanese Tea Ceremony
  * Why Korea is an Ideal Breeding Ground for Robots
  * [ SERIES ] Ongniel is Science: Why Visiting a Honey-Themed Outdoor Cafe Is a Bad Idea
  * Ten Ways to Say "I Love You" Without Saying "I Love You"
  * UPDATE: Best Way to Say "I Love You" is to _Actually_ Say "I Love You"



**Author's Note:**

> i'm not really sure where this came from or what i was trying to accomplish here, but i do know i've spent way too much time on this and i'm glad to finally be done. this is not an accurate representation of the gimpo tea etiquette museum or tea ceremony in general (a super cool thing to read about, actually, and watching someone perform it is like asmr). also minhyun in a hanbok?? best concept ever. anyways, thank you for reading (as always)!


End file.
